


boyfriend timeshare

by brightclam



Series: domestic yugioh [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: As I post this I'm bracing for y'all nasties to ruin it for me, But i need the validation so, F/M, I hate existing in an anime fandom, I'm gonna SNAP, If someone calls them their gay babies or something, M/M, Multi, No Sex, No Smut, actually everyone is pretty fucked up, not to say other fandoms are a cakewalk but, polyam joey/yugi/tea, ryou is pretty fucked up, set in a nebulous time when no one is evil and everyone is alive, they're all living together at the gameshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightclam/pseuds/brightclam
Summary: Dating is difficult when some of you don't have bodies. But they make it work and, slowly, begin to heal from what's happened.





	boyfriend timeshare

**Author's Note:**

> I've only seen up to season two and I don't remember the manga so I don't know how accurate this is.
> 
> TW: There's a bit of blood and violence, but nothing intense. There's also some depiction of trauma, with nightmares/dissociating, stuff like that.
> 
> If you see yourself as a fujoshi, a yaoi fan, or anything fetishistic like that, back the fuck up. I don't want you reading this. But since you probably won't listen to me, if you read this anyways, I hope you can feel me hating you the whole time.

\------

Sun spills in through the yellow curtains and sets the room aglow. Tristan cracks his eyes open and quickly regrets it; the glare of the sunlight off of the white sheets and the white head of hair pooled next to him burns his eyes. He squashes them closed, then squints, opening them slowly so that they can adjust. He throws an appreciative glance at the strip of beautiful blue sky glimmering outside the window before looking back down at the bed.

 

A bushy mess of hair blocks Bakura’s face from view, the truly atrocious bedhead a result of his restless, nightmare filled sleep. Even though he coexists with the spirit now, is even friends with it, but he still dreams of being trapped and wakes up screaming his own name.

 

Tristan had learned after the first time: don’t try to help when he first wakes up.  He’d been woken up by Bakura’s screaming, had watched in terror as he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom as if his life depended on it. As Tristan had joined him on the tile, before he could stop him, Ryou had smashed the mirror with an ear shattering scream of rage. Worried that he’d cut himself on the shards, Tristan had grabbed Ryou’s arms and pinned them to his sides. 

 

The next thing he remembers is lying on the floor, bleeding from where Ryou had taken a chunk out of his neck with his teeth. Yugi had found him, alerted by the crash of the smashed mirror, and rushed him to the ER. The injury wasn’t serious, but the terror of seeing Ryou lunge at him and feeling the hot blood trickling across his skin doesn’t go away quickly. Joey arrives a few minutes later, tells him they found Ryou halfway down the street, feet torn from running barefoot on the harsh concrete. Tristan tries to get up at that; Joey shoves him back down and assures him Ryou is fine. Tea is at home, watching over him.

 

When they get home, Ryou comes rushing to greet them. Tea has wrapped him in a fuzzy blanket, which flies out behind him like a cape as he throws himself into Tristan’s arms. His breath brushes across Tristan’s skin as he apologizes frantically.

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! I-I...I thought you were him.”

 

Tristan holds him close, shushes him, mutters that it’ll be okay. And next time Ryou gets up after a nightmare, Tristan watches from a distance until he’s aware of the real world again.

 

Ryou shifts, pressing his face into the bed, drawing Tristain out of the memory. Tristan can feel his lips pull up in a fond smile as he reaches for the hairbrush on the table next to the bed. He pushes the tangled bangs back until he can brush his thumb across his cheek and speaks gently:

 

“Come on, Ryou. You’re the one who insisted we wake up early.”

 

Ryou’s eyes crack open, and clear of sleep much quicker than Tristan’s did. He smiles and pushes himself up onto his forearms, giving Tristan better access to the mess of hair falling down his back. Tristan digs the brush in, carefully beginning to brush through it. If Ryou hopes to get out the door anytime soon, they need to get a head start on the hair.

 

“Tristan, you know he and Marik have been planning this for weeks.”

 

Tristan wrinkles his nose and focuses on not tugging on the brush.

 

“I’m still not fond of this...timeshare thing. It feel weird to have to share my boyfriend’s body with an evil spirit and a once evil egyptian tombkeeper.”

 

Ryou laughs, finger brushing his bangs.

 

“It is kind of weird. But I don’t mind, I think it’s only fair that he gets to spend some time out on his own.”

 

Trista sighs. He must admit, the more they try it, the more he gets used to it.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing he picked his outfit last night. Marik will be here soon and this one knot is just not giving up.”

 

Ryou tilts his head like a bird, a sign that he’s talking with the spirit. Tristan stays quiet, knowing he’ll translate soon enough. 

 

“He’s complaining about that new conditioner we got. It’s not working as well as the previous one. I insisted we use it so it wasn’t wasted, but he thinks we should have just thrown it out.”

 

Tristan accidentally pulls too hard and rips the knot out. Ryou jumps and yelps in pain, which quickly turns into a growl as the spirit emerges. Bakura turns and glares and Tristan sighs.

 

“Hey, calm down. It was an accident, no need to come out and protect the host body or whatever.”

 

The spirit smirks at him and flips the strand of hair Ryou had been working on over his shoulder.

 

“But then I wouldn’t get to see that cute little wrinkle on your forehead that you get when I piss you off.”

 

And then he laughs, in a way that’s more Ryou than spirit, which tells Tristan that Ryou is laughing inside their head as well.

 

Tristan jabs the hairbrush handle into his side to get his attention.

 

“If you’re gonna take my cute boyfriend away and replace him with your ugly mug, you might as well make yourself useful and finish brushing his hair.”

 

The spirit grins and gets up, brushing the sheets off himself as if he were a pop star pushing away the paparazzi, and struts to the bathroom. It’s his usual level of arrogant elegance, which Tristan would find impressive if it weren’t so annoying. He hums a tune as he starts brushing the hair, working through it with a speed and ease that Tristan envies to no end.

 

Tristan cracks the door open and yells that he’ll be downstairs, earning him a slight wave of recognition. He’s heading for the kitchen, but stops to greet Mr. Mutou in the shop. After all they’d been through, all the possessions and shadow duels, their group had become incredibly clingy. Atem was reluctant to let any of them out of his sight, so he suggested letting them live in the apartment atop the shop. At first they had been reluctant to accept, feeling like they were imposing upon Mr. Mutou.

 

But a few days of constantly calling each other to make sure they were all okay convinced them it was the best choice. The more affected ones of them, like Ryou, can’t even sleep unless someone is around. In the end, living together has worked perfectly.

 

Tristan freezes when he walks into the kitchen. The sight of Kaiba, asshole extraordinaire, in their home is still shocking. He must be waiting for Atem; he still treats the rest of the group coldly. He sits stiffly at the table, like a doll that’s been left there by an uncaring master. Tristan feels a surge of understanding and pity rise in him; living with the spirit must be making Tristan better at looking past someone’s pissy exterior. At the heart of it, Kaiba is just a very lost kid. His grandstanding and cruelty often makes it hard to remember that is only as old as them.

 

Tristan makes a decision he’s sure he’ll regret and steps into the kitchen, fixing a smile on his face.

 

“Hi, Kaiba! Is someone getting Atem for you?”

 

Kaiba nods, and looks back down at the table. Tristan grits his teeth and forges on, heading towards the coffeepot.

 

“Would you like some coffee? Or something else to drink?”

 

Kaiba looks up, eyes flashing and face creasing with anger, as if he wants to snap at Tristan. But he stops himself suddenly and, visibly struggling with himself, replies:

 

“Coffee is fine, thanks.”

 

Tristan struggles not to laugh at how difficult Kaiba finds it to be polite to him. But it’s honestly more than he expected. Not having Kaiba spit some insult and then ignore him was actually a huge step forwards. So he pours him a cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar once he knows his preference, and puts the cup down on the table. Kabia says thank you and then lapses back into awkward silence. Tristan decides he’s attempted enough Kaiba interaction for the day and makes his escape, telling him:

 

“I’m going to check on Atem.”

 

Kaiba nods and Tristan flees back up the stairs, passing by his and Ryou’s room in order to reach Joey and Yugi’s room. Really, it’s Anzu’s room as well; now that she and Joey both propositioned Yugi and were accepted, she’s been sleeping there more often than in her own room, which she shares with Mai and sometimes Serenity.

 

Mai had complained that she’s a grown woman with her own apartment, but she still stays with them most of the time. She needs to reassure herself that she’s in the real world still, not trapped helpless and alone in the shadow realm. They make sure she’s out when Marik comes by; she knows it wasn’t really him tormenting her, but she still can’t stand to see him. Duke lives in his shop most of the time, but he does drop by, and sleeps on their couch more often than he likes to admit. He wasn’t directly involved in most of the duel, but even just seeing them happen affected him.

 

Tristan can hear the bell on the door downstairs ring; it’s probably Marik. He giggles at the thought of Marik and Kaiba sitting together in the kitchen, trying their best not to leap at each other and start a fight. They don’t really have a good reason to hate each other, but knowing them, they’re going to anyways.

 

Tristan reaches the room he’s looking for and pushes open the door, nearly hitting Joey. He and Tea are hovering over Yugi, trying to wake him up. Sometimes he sleeps like a log and is nigh impossible to wake up, and sometimes he’s awake the instant you step into the room, you never know which. Unfortunately, today seem to be log day. Joey whines “Yugiiii!” and tugs on his leg, almost dragging him off the bed.

 

Before he can offer his help, he hears Bakura yelling his name, with the sharp edge denoting the spirit. He sticks his head back into the hallway, where Bakura is standing. 

 

His hair is brushed and pulled back into a ponytail, and he's wearing a harsh black jacket over a green shirt and black skinny jeans. He and Ryou tend to color code themselves: blue clothing is Ryou, green is the spirit.

 

When he spots Tristan he rushes over to him, yelling along the way:

 

“Is Marik here?”

 

Tristan yells back a yes, but is interrupted by a loud thump from inside the room as Joey pulls Yugi off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. Bakura hears it and sticks his head inside, a gleam in his eyes. He looks at Yugi, strewn out on the floor still sound asleep, and asks cheekily:

 

“What’s up?”

 

Joey sighs and prods Yugi with his foot.

 

“He won’t wake up and Kaiba is downstairs waiting for him. I want to get that asshole out of this house as soon as possible, but Yugi isn’t cooperating.”

 

Bakura grins and walks over to Yugi, crouching at his side.

 

“I can help, if you want?”

 

Joey hesitates, aware that this is the spirit talking, and not sure exactly what he’s offering. Tea, however, doesn’t hesitate. She smiles kindly at Bakura.

 

“That would be great, thank you!”

 

Bakura reaches out and lays one spidery finger on the millennium puzzle. The ring hanging on his necklace begins to glow, and everyone is the room tenses. But almost immediately, the glow stops and Bakura breaks contact. A moment later, Atem sits up. With his usual calm, he looks at the group gathered around him.

 

“I’m sorry for all this trouble. If I was able to wake Yugi myself I would have, but I find sometimes his sleep is too deep for even me to break.”

 

Joey frowns suspiciously and juts his chin out at Bakura accusingly.

 

“If you couldn’t wake him up, how come he could?”

 

The spirit sneers, a jagged thing that makes Joey take a step back.

 

“I’ve had considerably more experience forcing a host to give up more control than the Pharaoh has.”

 

Tristan clenches his fists at the casual cruelty of it; forces himself not to lash out—it is Ryou’s body, after all. But, almost as soon as he says it, the spirit retreats into their mind, returning control to Ryou. It’s almost like he regrets it. Ryou blinks, a quick moment of disorientation and adjustment, and then gives Atem a sweet smile.

 

“Atem! You’re awake.” 

 

The room is silent a second too long; Ryou and the spirit still unsettle everyone. They love Ryou, but he always seems too cheery, too unaffected by what happened. Tristan knows most of it goes into his head and rattles around until it bursts free in the form of those terrible nightmares. And even worse than Ryou is the spirit: being around him is like playing with a knife. Atem smiles back and gives Ryou a gentle nod. He’s the most comfortable one with the symbiotic creature Bakura has become, probably because he and Yugi are the of the same sort.

 

Ryou jumps up, suddenly worried.

 

“Marik!”

 

He goes tearing down the stairs without a goodbye. He changes into the spirit along the way, the change flowing over him like he’s a snake shedding a skin. Tristan follows him down and nods to Marik, who’s in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge. Tristan notes with amusement that it’s the farthest he can get away from Kaiba while still being able to see who comes down the stairs.

 

Marik wraps an arm around the spirit’s waist and leans in close, asking him if he’s ready to go. But he’s always careful not to do anything more while they’re in the house, as if he’s afraid doing so will anger Tristan enough for him to insist that Bakura stay away from him. Tristan sighs; he may not like the spirit, or Marik, that much, but he would never do that. The spirit is part of Bakura, and Tristan had known he’d signed up for the package deal.

 

But he can’t come out and say that, so instead he just smiles at Marik and says:

 

“Have fun!”

 

Marik smiles back, a rare sight, and steers the spirit towards the door. Tristan watches them leave, the still silent Kaiba sitting behind him. Before he has to figure out something to break the silence with Kaiba, Atem comes down the stairs, the jingling of his bracelets preceding him. Kaiba stands up to greet him, and they link arms. It makes them look like a prissy rich couple which, strangely, suits them. If Kaiba ever goes to some fancy event, Tristan has no doubt Atem will be there, hanging off his arm like very deadly arm candy.

 

Before they leave, Kaiba turns to Tristan and coldly informs him:

 

“We will be back by seven. Thank you for the coffee.”

 

The tone is more suited to a business meeting, so it takes Tristan too long to realize Kaiba just  _ thanked  _ him for something. They’re out the door before Tristan can tease him about it.

 

“Damn. That was a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

 

\-------

 

Marik and Bakura return sooner than they should have, and the angry shouting from the kitchen brings everyone rushing downstairs in a hurry. Bakura is pinning a bleeding Marik to a chair with one hand and trying to tear his own shirt with the other. As they enter the room, Marik screeches:

 

“No! That’s your best shirt, you just bought it yesterday!”

 

Bakura rolls his eyes and redoubles his efforts.

 

“Stopping your bleeding is more important than my shirt, you idiot!”

 

The shirt tears with a loud noise and Marik shrieks louder:

 

“You fuck!”

 

Bakura sticks his tongue out him like a child and starts wrapping the strip of fabric around the bleeding wound on his forearm. That jolts everyone into action, running for towels and water and the first aid kit. Soon enough Marik is mobbed, Yugi and Joey wiping at the wound as Tea interrogates Bakura.

 

“What happened? I thought you were just going out on a date!”

 

Marik and Bakura share a guilty look that strikes cold fear into Tristan’s heart. He wonders if he should check the news for any recent murders. Tea glares at Bakura, her disapproval drilling into him until he explains.

 

“It was a date, yes. But we hadn’t been able to fight in a while so we decided to go out and pick one.”

 

Joey groans.

 

“What did you do, just pick some poor innocent off the street and deck them?”

 

Bakura looks offended, as if such a thing were beneath him.

 

“Of course not! We had a target already picked out.”

 

Tea pales and snarls:

 

“Please tell me you didn’t go out and hurt someone for fun. Or even worse, kill them.”

 

Bakura shrinks away from her rage.

 

“We were careful! We made sure to pick someone who deserved it.”

 

Marik speaks up, voice tense with pain.

 

“There was a dogfighting ring a blocks away from here. We went in, beat up the nasty fucks running it, and freed the dogs. I got too close to one and it bit me. We didn’t kill anyone, we even called the police to take care of the trash once we were done fucking them up.”

 

Tristan relaxes. It’s definitely a grey area, but it’s better than the murder they were expecting. The door opening again interrupts the silence, and Kaiba strides in. His arms are of full huge rolls of paper. Atem follows, beaming like the sun, arms also stuffed. They stop and stare at the group huddled in the kitchen, and especially at the bloody towels piled on the table.

 

Tea steps forwards, lays a gentle hand on Atem’s shoulder.

 

“Welcome home, Atem.”

 

Atem fades away and Yugi stares worriedly at Marik. Kaiba twitches slightly at the change, as if he’s not used to seeing it happen yet.

 

“What happened, Tea?”

 

She sighs, turns a disapproving stare back on Marik and Bakura.

 

“They did something stupid, Marik got bit by a dog. It’s not that serious, just looks bad.”

 

Yugi smiles and fades back into Atem. Kaiba twitches less noticeably this time. Tristan searches for something to say that will distract them from Marik’s tiny hisses of pain and the pool of bloody water on the table. He lands on the most obvious thing and blurts out:

 

“What’s with all the paper?”

 

Kaiba snorts haughtily.

 

“It sounds unexciting compared to being bitten by a dog, but I took Atem to the museum of architecture.”

 

Atem jumps in, beautifully eager to tell them about the museum’s shop and all the blueprints it had, and Kaiba had been kind enough to buy them so he could study them! His pure joy and even voice calms the entire room and by the time Marik’s arm has been bandaged, everyone has settled down onto their own little spot of the kitchen. Tristan looked around the room, at Kaiba just a little bit less stiff, at Marik truly integrated into the group for the first time.

 

“Hey! Let’s call Duke and Serenity and have a sleepover!”

 

Mai will have to be excluded for this one on account of Marik, but she’s got an important meeting to prepare for this week, so that’s probably okay. 

 

Marik and Kaiba both tense at his words, but are quickly overwhelmed by Tea and Yugi’s positive response. Marik shrinks into himself, but seems resigned. Kaiba, however, tries to get out of it.

 

“I told Mokuba I’d be back tonight.”

 

Yugi switches back to Atem and the Pharaoh has a predatory gleam in his eye. Tristan smirks and settles in to watch the show, knowing there’s no way Kaiba’s getting out of this now.

 

“Call him, he can join us too.”

 

Kaiba stutters, scrambles for another excuse. Atem doesn't give him a chance to come up with one, instead goes swooping in for the kill.

 

“Seto, beloved, you promised you’d spend more time with my friends, try to get along with them. They’ve been polite enough to give you a perfect opportunity, how can you turn it down?”

 

Kaiba blushes at the pet name and admits defeat, reaching for his phone. Tea cheers and pulls out her own cell phone, dialing in Duke’s number. Tristan drags Joey upstairs to grab the sleeping bags. They carpet the living room with them and throw in blankets and pillows, until it’s a mass of soft fabric. Everyone joins them and they project a movie on the wall, throwing popcorn at each other and yelling commentary at the characters.

 

Bakura and Ryou switch through the night, flitting between Marik and Tristan. At one point Ryou curls into him and whispers a “thank you”. Tristan presses a kiss to his forehead and asks “what for?” Ryou laughs, nods towards Marik, who’s hovering at the edge of the group and staring at the movie in bewilderment. “For trying to make him comfortable.” Then the spirit returns; Tristan can feel the change crackling across his skin like electricity. He smirks up at Tristan, but when he adds his thank you to Ryou’s it’s with a rare sincerity.

 

Yugi and Atem flip flop as well, curling up in a ball of Joey, Anzu, Mokuba and Kaiba. Both Joey and Kaiba grumble at being near each other, but Yugi and Atem make it clear they either coexist or don’t get to be near their boyfriends during the night. It’s the most fluid he’s ever seen them, switching between Yugi and Atem with ease and confidence.

 

As they stuff themselves full of junk food, they begin to settle down into a comfy pile of bodies. Because they all have such trouble sleeping, cuddling is commonplace. This is the biggest cuddle pile they’ve ever had though, Tristan thinks proudly. Even Kaiba is integrated, sandwiched between Atem and Mokuba. 

 

The only person not intertwined is Marik. Tristan taps Duke on the shoulder and points at Marik. Duke smirks and nods, plan coming together almost instantly. Duke wiggles his way over to Marik and flops onto him, wrapping his arms over his shoulders and pulling him down into the pile. Marik sputters, but doesn’t resist as Duke shoves him up against Bakura. 

 

Tristan gives him a reassuring smile over Bakura’s shoulder, and Ryou wraps his arms around Marik, fully integrating him into the knot of Tristan and Bakura. Duke lies with his back touching Marik’s, encasing him entirely in the pile. They drift off to sleep, kept safe by the closeness of their friends.


End file.
